jdsalinger
Learn more about other poetry terms
I am from lots of dough
From not caring if I lose my goddam gloves
From getting kicked out of schools
Because I hate the goddam phonies who think they're so cool
I'm from missing Allie
Music is in everything, it is everywhere. From the gravitating pull of rocks avalanching down a mountain, to the sound of my fingers caressing my scaple through my hair.
This paper understands me.
It catches the words that bleed from my mouth.
Cushions the blow as they fall to my desk.
This page is the place where I don't have to hide.
My pen is the bike for an open mind ride.
Habitually Speechless, attacked by my violent mind,
my mouth is a blocked exit.
Slammed against the glass of revolving doors, turning with no direction,
